


I'll Be Home for Christmas

by peachywriter



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged Akaashi Keiji, Aged Bokuto Kotarou, Bokuto Kotarou - Freeform, Boyfriends, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas fic, Christmas proposal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Haikyuu Filo Week 2020, Hurt/Comfort, Husbands, Implications of death, M/M, Married Life, Mentions of Hinata Shouyou - Freeform, Mentions of Tsukishima Kei - Freeform, a bit of angst too, a bit of crying in this one, akaashi keiji - Freeform, mentions of Kageyama Tobio - Freeform, mentions of Kozume Kenma - Freeform, mentions of Kuroo Tetsurou - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachywriter/pseuds/peachywriter
Summary: Kōtarō shakily sighs, reaching out to touch his beloved one last time. “Keiji, I love you.”“I know. I know you always have.”His husband looks at him, an unreadable expression adorning his face. “Keiji.”“Kōtarō.”“Wait for me, okay? I’ll be home for Christmas soon,” Kōtarō quietly says, squeezing Keiji’s hands, their wedding bands glinting under the light of the bright sun above them.Keiji smiles, knowing that finally,finally, Kōtarō has made peace with his passing. “Take your time, Kōtarō. We’d have eternity for each other soon.”
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: HQ Filo Week Fic Collection





	I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is a christmas special and my first haikyuu fic on this site! also, this is my entry for Haikyuu Filo Week 2020 on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hqfiloweek)! i was supposed to do like three days but my lazy ass took over and so i am down to this one lone fic.
> 
> alslo rushed to write the ending for this BECAUSE I'M CURRENTLY PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS DINNER AS WE SPEAK so i'm sorry if it's bad! :D
> 
> there are also words here that are translated in Filipino so i will leave the translations at the end of the fic!
> 
> enjoy! :D and merry christmas to you guys! :D

Every year on the twenty-fourth, a certain spirit would come by the Bokuto residence, floating inside quietly. The long train of their dress follows them, the ends lightly touching the wooden floorboards as they make their way towards the end of the hall. Gently, it knocked thrice and patiently waited outside for a response. 

“I must’ve visited late today,” the spirit says to themself, huffing a sigh as they tossed a lock of their golden hair aside. Normally, they’d be early in visiting, but someone just had to be a pain in the ass and stir trouble for Father Christmas.

Not that what they did was unfunny, but it nearly cost them their visitation rights for the evening. 

The spirit hears a bit of shuffling inside the room and moments later, the door opens albeit slowly. Behind it was Kōtarō, looking a tad weary yet still cheerful enough for the season.

“Oh, it’s you!” he says, opening the door a bit wider when the spirit could just easily slip through without any trouble at all. “I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t come. And I totally understand that.”

The spirit chuckles, gliding towards the lone chair by the window as Kōtarō slips into the covers once again. They look at him and, weirdly enough, a budding sadness develops. The grays on the man’s hair only multiply, and his skin continues to wrinkle like the pages of his life among the living. Yet the same shine on his eyes can be seen, the same ones they’ve been looking at twenty years ago.

“Apologies for the hold-up. Father Christmas wasn’t pleased with what happened during Christmas dinner tonight.”

“It’s no trouble at all!” Kōtarō smiles cheerily, his laugh lines showing as the lamp on his bedside table illuminates his face. “You get prettier every year, spirit,” the old man comments, his eyes trailing towards the spirit’s hair. “And there isn’t a year where your hair doesn’t look like it’s a flame that never goes out. It’s a pity that I can’t touch it, however.”

The spirit smiles adoringly at the old man’s constant curiosity. “It’s also entertaining that after all these years, your curiosity never seems to dissipate.”

“Please! No one is too old to be “not curious enough. Even Tetsurō says that being curious is my best asset,” he proudly announced, mentioning the name of his long time best friend as he boasts to the spirit. 

“Yet your best friend also presses that you are cocky and sometimes annoying?”

Kōtarō sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Sometimes. I mean if you’ve lived your life thinking that you are the center of everything, the energy stays with you until you’re old, y’know what I’m saying?”

The spirit doesn’t comment. They do not know what being the center of everything meant, for they were merely side-characters of fairy tales told during Christmas. Instead of answering, the spirit quietly smiles, crossing their legs underneath their long dress and placing their chin on their upturned hand.

“So. Where to tonight?” they ask, initiating the beginning of their annual tradition. For some reason, Kōtarō never seems to stop asking them to come even though he was told that old people get crankier every year. Father Christmas must’ve met a lot of bad old people through the years instead of good ol’ grandpas like Kōtarō.

“Truthfully, I haven’t even decided on that yet,” Kōtarō sheepishly answers, folding his hands on top of his lap. “I keep on thinking where in time would be the best present this year.”

“You mean best visitation to a past memory?”

“Oh, you know what I meant by present.” Kōtarō hums, the gears in his head seemingly turning and the spirit watches him, their eyes fixated on Kōtarō’s serious face. “What was the one I visited again last year?”

“That time where you and Kuroo got shitfaced drunk in the outskirts of Tokyo when you two were twenty-four and had to have Kozume pick you up in the middle of his stream.”

“What about when I was forty-two? That disastrous Christmas?”

“You asked me to take you back to that time where you were five so that you could enjoy your grandma’s cold soba noodles in her house out of town.”

Kōtarō sighs. “Too bad I already did that.” He moves his hand to his chin, a gesture, the spirit observed over the years, that he loved doing whenever he was thinking. Mumbling to himself, the spirit can see that Kōtarō’s was trying to remember a bunch of things from his past visitations. The spirit wished they could’ve towed a tea set as they patiently waited for their client. 

Finally, a look of recognition adorns the old man’s eyes. Turning to the spirit, he asks, “What about that one when I celebrated Christmas in Paris? When I was invited to my sister’s wedding?”

The air around the spirit stills. They float in silence, looking towards Kōtarō’s prized possession of trophies and medals, not wanting to answer him. “I forgot about that one.” They could feel the man’s eyes on them, boring holes into the side of their face, yet the spirit wasn’t so easily swayed.

“Come on now! You’ve been perfectly reciting and recounting what memories I’ve visited before. Surely you must know this one,” Kōtarō reasons, unperturbed at the spirit’s words. He notices the spirits eyebrows furrowed, their fingers tapping unsettlingly on their lap. 

And that’s when he remembers what he wished for the specific evening.

_“Take me to see the first time I met Keiji,” was Kōtarō’s request despite the shattering feeling inside his chest. “I just want to feel if there was something when I first saw him.”_

_The spirit before him doesn’t say a word. And with a wave of their hand, they are transported to Fukurodani’s gymnasium. The sound of balls hitting the ground and shoes squeaking against the polished floor takes Kōtarō back and he feels himself relax, albeit briefly._

_“It’s still weird that they can’t see me. Are you sure you don’t have that kind of ability?”_

_The spirit beside him nods. “Don’t look away now. Here’s where he comes in.”_

_Of course, Kōtarō thinks. He knows this scene all too well. He’s etched it into his heart, like a prayer he says to himself every evening. Kōtarō wonders if things would’ve been different if things turned out the way he thinks his alternate universes worked. But in this universe, he had the pleasure of meeting the one person that would mean the world to him._

_Upon the sight of the young Akaashi Keiji, Kōtarō notices his younger self catch the eye of his soon-to-be most trusted member, the person that would invade every part of his body, mind, and heart without fail. And as if the spell around him wore out, their eyes meet and Kōtarō feels a shudder go through him._

_He wasn’t ready. He was mistaken for this._

_“Take me back,” he immediately utters, clenching his hands into fists. The spirit says nothing, yet they worry about their mortal friend. Not wanting to see them any more upset, they wave a hand around the scene, promptly returning to Kōtarō’s suite inside a small hotel in Paris._

_For the first time, the spirit catches sight of what Father Christmas calls “tears”._

“Kōtarō,” the spirit says, waving a hand in front of the old man. “Are you okay? Do you want me to leave? You need to rest, old man.”

Kōtarō comes back to his senses and laughs heartily. “Believe me, this old man has more than forever to be lively,” he cheerily says, yet the spirit stays unconvinced. The old man clears his throat and claps his hands together. “So, shall we decide on tonight’s adventure?”

Not wanting to press further, the spirit nods. “I’m ready when you’re ready, Kōtarō.”

“Well, you might actually scold me for this, but I want you to take me to a memory of me and Keiji.”

The both of them stare at each other: the spirit in shock and Kōtarō, determined. “Just earlier you were feeling particularly down at the memory of him. Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this?”

Kōtarō sighs, jokingly shaking his head at his friend’s words. “Oh, dear spirit. Do I look stupid to you?”

“Sometimes,” they answer almost immediately, earning an angry groan from Kōtarō. 

“Well, this time you’re wrong!” Kōtarō exclaims. Running a slow hand through his tame hair (much to the spirit’s surprise, Kōtarō’s hairstyle changed once he hit his golden age), the old man reaches towards the bedside table where a lone portrait stood. “I’m ready to make peace with Keiji, spirit. I’m ready to make peace with myself as well,” he quietly says, lovingly stroking his beloved’s face from the glass of the frame.

Seeing no way out of this, the spirit sighs, still worried for his friend’s decisions. “Okay. Where do you want to visit tonight?”

Kōtarō’s eyes shine in excitement. “I have the perfect memory. I’m sure you’ll love this, too.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Kōtarō and the spirit land gracefully on the footsteps of an unknown house. Turning a corner, there was a street bustling with Christmas energy, very different from what the spirit has seen since the beginning of their evening in Japan. Kids were running around donning Christmas hats and their best outfits, their hands full of what seemed to be red packets loaded with cash. Some even moved in groups and had fake tambourines and maracas made out of soda bottle caps, going door-to-door and singing carols for a bit or spare change or, if they were lucky, candy.

On one side of the street, someone had party tents up and one person was joyously singing _Feliz Navidad_ on the videoke*, the people around them cheering loudly as they raised their cups filled with beer. Towards the end of the street, groups of families seemed to be engaging in parlor games, their faces either caked with whipped cream or their hands clutching prizes such as wrapped gifts, chocolates, and money.

Most of all, everything around them seemed to be illuminated by Christmas lights, the noticeable of these were star lanterns that seemed to be hanging from every house in the area. The spirit had never seen such joy ever since they visited Russia to tend to a dying person’s Christmas wish and they were getting curious as to where Kōtarō specifically took them.

“Sorry, you must be really weirded out right now since our neighborhood is usually quiet during Christmas,” Kōtarō says, a certain shine glossing over his old features. “We’re currently in the Philippines and it’s an hour before their so-called _noche buena_.”

_Noche buena_ , the spirit repeats inside their head. “Pray do tell what does that mean, Kōtarō?” the spirit asks as they walk down the eventful street. The spirit’s eyes kept darting from one Christmas display to the other, a warm feeling starting to settle on them as Kōtarō continued to tell what this _noche buena_ entailed.

“For starters: there is a _lot_ of food involved. Frankly, I’ve never seen so much food in my entire life when Keiji showed me what it would look like. It’s like a week’s worth of dishes all piled into one long table for families to eat,” Kōtarō tells, gesturing to one household that had its gates open, a long table in the middle of their house. The mother of the household kept calling over people to come eat and take food from their table, saying that it’s Christmas and that tonight was a time of giving.

“Christmas is still tomorrow. What is she saying?” the spirit inquires, completely confused at the gesture. Everyone knows the twenty-fifth is Christmas, yet why is this lady saying that it has already begun when they clearly still had about an hour left?

“That’s just how it is here in this country. You’d be surprised to know they start decorating their houses with Christmas decorations around September,” the old man muses, laughing at the spirit’s incredulous look they shot his way. “Believe me, I was surprised to hear it as well the first time I heard about it.”

“This certainly is a peculiar country. Remind me why I’m here again?” the spirit asks him and Kōtarō looks over his shoulder, sadly smiling. “Come on now, dear spirit. You, of all entities and people out there, should know that this is the day I always hold dear to my heart. Need I say more?”

The spirit, impressed by the old man’s cheekiness, presses no further. “I was just asking in case you forgot.” 

They stop in front of a humble house decorated with Christmas lights around the outside. From beyond the gate, they could see a wreath hanging from the door, the walkway towards the house lined with small elves that lighted up the path.

Opposite of the invisible duo stood a much younger Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Kōtarō, the couple in their late thirties. The both of them seemed to be wearing simple polos tucked inside their pants, although Kōtarō had on a cream colored sweater and Keiji, a bright red Santa hat that seemed to light up from the sides.

“Keiji is just too adorable here,” Kōtarō says from beside the spirit as they watched the couple make their way quietly to the house. “I remember insisting that he wear the Santa hat instead of me because his outfit looked a bit plain.”

“But Keiji didn’t like standing out, right?”

Kōtarō nods, smiling to himself. “I liked that about him. It makes me think that I’m the only person in the world who knows how much Keiji loved being pampered and held behind closed doors.” His eyes trail towards the young features of his lover, the infamous Akaashi Keiji smiling as Kōtarō talks his head off of their plans for the next day should Keiji be relieved from his co-worker’s plans to tour them around the city.

The spirit, noticing Kōtarō’s longing, heaves a long sigh. “You know. I can do something extra special for you tonight,” they begin to talk. _For the love of Father Christmas, what am I doing?_

Kōtarō turns to his side and meets eyes with the spirit. “I am listening.”

“I can make you young until this memory is over.”

Silence. Kōtarō’s eyes widen, but reverts back just as fast as it piqued. “You’re joking.”

“Have I ever joked in the years that I came to visit you?”

“Well, no? But I thought you could only transport me and make me see these memories.”

The spirit looks at the couple in front of them, already at the front of the gates. “This is one thing I grant to those who are only dying. But, as my other Christmas present—“ the spirit inwardly shudders at the word “—I can give you this.”

“You mean… Enter my young body and relive the memory with Keiji?”

“Exactly that. But only until the memory lasts.”

Kōtarō seems to hesitate for a moment. The look in his eyes screamed that he _absolutely, definitely, completely_ wanted to do it. But inside, his feelings were like a raging storm.

What would he feel if he did decide to go through it? Would everything feel like the way it should feel after all these years? Would he still remember the places where Keiji liked being touched? Would he still remember the words he always told Keiji, the right jokes that made his world laugh? Kōtarō wasn’t so sure.

Out of nowhere, however, he utters, “Okay,” catching himself off-guard. Unbeknownst to him, the spirit smiles happily and with a snap of their fingers, he is gone.

And into the body of his younger self he goes. He feels as if the air in his lungs have been momentarily knocked out, making him cough and heave. Beside him, Keiji’s eyebrows furrows in worry for his boyfriend, patting and rubbing small circles on his back.

“Kōtarō, are you okay? Do you need water?” he asks, whipping out his phone and mumbling how his co-worker Mateo was late in opening the door for them. Kōtarō shakes his head, holding a hand to Keiji’s shoulder as if to signal that he is fine. While Keiji busies himself in calling his friend, Kōtarō catches sight of the spirit inside the house, the figure standing beside the last elf near the door.

“Yeah, thank you,” he hears Keiji say from beside him. At once, his attention was back to his beloved, the other smiling in relief as Kōtarō straightened himself once again. “Mateo’s wife is gonna open the door for us. Remember to greet them, okay?”

“Keiji! You’re forgetting that _I’m_ the one who greets first during Christmas! I won’t forget this small task, don’t worry,” he reassures the other, grasping his warm hand tightly. Kōtarō feels a zing pass through his entire system and for the first time since minutes ago, he realizes that he was here, young and breathing the same air as Keiji, who, in his eyes, seemed to be sparkling under the array of lights that hung before them.

Kōtarō’s free hand felt around the pockets of his pants and sure enough, there was a small box on his back pocket. His heart raced just like before because _holy shit_ , he was proposing to Keiji _again_. Maybe he’d do better this time and not splutter over his words because truthfully, proposing while you’re a bit drunk is not the way to go.

The gate to the house opens and Mateo’s wife welcomes them, Keiji first then Kōtarō, the latter cheerily greeting “ _Maligayang Pasko!_ ”* before handing a box of sweets Keiji picked up on their way from the hotel.

“ _Maligayang Pasko_ , Kōtarō, Keiji! And you two shouldn’t have!” Valerie supplies, telling the couple as she leads him inside the house. For a brief minute, Kōtarō locks eyes with the spirit and the latter gives him a thumbs-up, mouthing “good luck” as they disappear for the evening.

Kōtarō smiles to himself. With Keiji’s hand pressed against his, the sound of Christmas carols, and the lingering scent of delicious food in the air, Kōtarō feels like he’s finally living again. 

He couldn’t have gotten a better Christmas present than this.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

_Noche buena_ in the Constantino household is, how should Kōtarō put this, lively? Probably. He’s currently at a loss for words. In his memory, the meals seemed to have passed and the alcohol gone in one sitting.

But now that he is reliving the experience, he decides to take his time and relish everything, imprinting them in his head carefully. He eyes the rows of food that was served by Mateo’s wife and grandparents. He couldn’t name most of the food he was seeing (he would have to ask Keiji what they were eating), but God do they look delicious. He plays along with what Keiji calls Mateo’s _pamangkins*_ , the adorable cousins that seem to love Kōtarō at first sight He takes notice of the videoke* machine that stood inside the living room, the device blasting traditional Filipino Christmas carols that made him want to dance.

How could he have forgotten such little, fun things so easily? Must be the age.

Later, when all has been said and prayed over, Kōtarō finds himself in the middle of conversing with Mateo as he happily dines on his _lumpiang shanghai*_. “So what’s the world renowned volleyball star Bokuto Kōtarō doing in our humble abode, huh?” he jokes, elbowing Kōtarō a bit on the sides. He’s just as chatty and lively as how Kōtarō remembers him to be, even after the fact they haven’t contacted each other that much over the years.

Kōtarō swallows the last piece of his _lumpiang shanghai_ before moving to pick up a bit of chicken macaroni, piling them on his plate as he talks. “Keiji offered that I take a break for a bit. Since the coach definitely told us to lay back this Christmas, Keiji took this opportunity to ask me to come with him here.”

“Akaashi-san’s the only one who can make you take a break. That’s love right there.”

Kōtarō laughs at the statement. “You should’ve seen him back in high school. I’d always ask him to toss for me so that I could practice my spikes and by the time it was really dark, he’d groggily tell me that we needed to leave.”

“I’ve heard of that from Akaashi-san. He told me you were a handful since high school, not that he minded, of course.”

_Was this something that he said in the past? God, my memory about this entire conversation is so foggy, I can’t keep up_. “Well, not to brag but that’s what he gets for practicing with only the best.”

“Kōtarō, please, you were only ranked number five in the best spikers of the high school division,” Keiji interjects as he hands his lover a glass of soda.

Kōtarō, surprised by Keiji’s sudden response, turned to him with his lips in a pout like he always did when one of Keiji’s witty remarks hit him. Before, it would be him whining like a kid, saying “Akaaaashiii! You were supposed to support what I just said!!” while his teammates around him laughed.

Nowadays, however, it would be something along the lines of “Keiji! That is not related to the discussion right now!” followed by poking or pinching Keiji’s cheeks like he’s the kid in the situation. Some onlookers from the side of their table watched as how the scene unfolded before them and they couldn’t help but laugh heartily the same way Kōtarō remembers, and he feels tingly from all the attention yet somber at how this was only a fragment of his memories of the past.

_NO. Tonight was going to be about how HAPPY he was in this memory. Tonight was about HIM and KEIJI_ , he tells himself, shaking any sad feeling off his body. He turns his attention back to his meal and starts having more of the chicken macaroni, the cubes of cheese going well with the sweetness of the onions and sauce mixed in the pasta, chicken, and vegetables. 

“This dish is so _good_. Who made this?” Kōtarō comments, duly impressed by the meal they were having. Initially he thought that the food Filipinos ate during Christmas would be something plain like fried food (or so how Keiji’s stories went about Mateo’s constant lunch during work). But this food was paradise, if Kōtarō were to describe it, like a warm hug and echoes of endless laughter that seemed to only be present during the happiest of days.

“My _lola*_ made it, Kōtarō. She can teach you the recipe if you want,” Valerie answers from the other side of the table and Kōtarō begins to gush excitedly about how this was the best thing he’s tasted ever since coming here for the holidays and _lola_ Helena seems pleased with herself, musing the eccentric guest.

Kōtarō then turns to his boyfriend, eyes excited and shining. “Keiji, you can make this, right? _Lola_ Helena would be glad to teach you, she says!” 

“Oh no, we shouldn’t impose, _lola_ Helena. We’re just here to be guests,” Keiji says shyly, bowing his head a bit. 

“ _Ay sus, okay lang! Minsan lang ‘to*_ ,” lola Helena says in her native tongue, leaving Keiji a bit confused, thinking that he’d irritate the old lady. Valerie translates for him and Keiji eases into his chair, smiling. “Well, if you insist, _lola_ Helena.” He turns to Kōtarō smiling like he’s currently in the happiest place on earth.

Kōtarō cheeks flush at the sight of Keiji smiling. Out of nowhere, he blurts loudly, “I love you, Keiji,” and the entire household whoops and cheers for the couple.

“K-Kōtarō!”

“Kōtarō and Keiji sitting on the tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” a group of teenagers from the far end of the table sings, their faces lit up with laughter and their cheeks flushing red from the small display of affection. Some of the _titos_ and _titas_ * on the other end begin singing a Filipino song, their words going, “ _Minsan lang kita iibigin!_ *”

“ _Tito_! That’s not it! It should be “ _Pasko na, sinta ko!_ *” You got it wrong,” Mateo jokes, pushing Keiji and Kōtarō closer to each other now that they’re in the center of the spotlight.

“Do you understand what they’re saying, baby?” Kōtarō asks, visibly confused and amused at the sudden burst of energy around him. Truthfully, he didn’t remember much about this bit happening or whether it did happen, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Keiji looks at him, his eyes smiling and his cheeks red from the attention of Mateo’s relatives. “Honestly, I have no idea and it doesn’t really matter,” he answers, before proceeding to lean forward and kissing Kōtarō smack dab on the lips. 

Around them, the cheers get louder and even in the chaos, someone whips out a guitar and begins singing Christmas songs, adding to the festive energy around them. The grandfather clock in the living room begins to chime loudly, signaling the Christmas that has finally arrived.

Kōtarō could feel everyone taking pictures of them before having their turn of giving kisses and exchanging _mano po’s_ * to their grandparents. But Kōtarō couldn’t give less much of a shit anymore: here he was, spending the best Christmas he’s had in years, in the presence of such warm people and in the arms of his beloved Keiji.

From beside Kōtarō, he can hear Valerie’s lolo* Leo says after a hearty laughter, “Have them over again for Christmas next year. I have a nice bottle of wine waiting for them in my cellar in Pampanga!”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After all the parents and elderly had retired from the dining room to the sitting room for a quiet dessert of buko pandan* and the young ones (surprisingly, some of the dads as well) in the living room for a round of party games and their highly anticipated inuman session*, Kōtarō finds himself strolling towards the garden after getting Mateo’s permission to loiter around for a bit. Keiji was pulled aside by Valerie’s cousins, much to his dismay, but he wanted him to have fun as well after reassuring him he’d be alright on his own.

“Enjoying the memory?” a voice from beside him speaks and he jumps after seeing that it was just the spirit reappearing after their dramatic exit two hours ago.

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s actually more joyful than how I remember it to be,” Kōtarō says, settling on one of the white chairs placed in the middle of the garden. He looks up towards the fairy lights that decorate the area and sighs at how he never noticed how pretty these things were during the first time he visited. “I distinctly remember getting drunk, but since I remember how proposing drunk nearly got me and Keiji separated, I decided to hold off for a bit until I’ve done what I needed to do”

The spirit nods in agreement, floating to one of the chairs beside Kōtarō and easing themself in casually, pulling their legs close to their chest. “I’m glad that you made this decision. How are you feeling so far?”  
From outside, Kōtarō could hear the distant melodies of a sad love song being sung by one of the supposedly drunk dads inside. The Christmas air seems to waft around him like a reminder that this was all a passing adventure, that this was simply a memory he was trying to live thanks to this kind spirit. 

“So far, everything’s great. Although I know it’s a memory, I am here breathing with Keiji. I get to hold his hands, caress his face, watch him eat heartily like he always did.” Kōtarō closes his eyes and sighs helplessly at the image of Keiji inside his head, smiling and looking at him with those alluring green eyes that seem to reach into the depths of his golden soul. “I get to listen to his calm voice pass through my ears and feel shivers every time he utters my name.”

The spirit watches as his friend's eyes slowly gloss over, the gold in his eyes hinting a bit of sadness amidst the burst of joy he’s feeling right now. _Maybe I shouldn’t have told him I could do this. Then again…_

“Kōtarō!” Keiji calls from behind him, the gray haired man looking up to see that the spirit had left as he was contemplating on his feelings about this particular memory. 

_It’s about to end. Did this evening really pass by quickly than I remember it?_

But Kōtarō was okay with it At least for now.

“Keiji. Hello, baby,” Kōtarō says with a smile, lacing his hand with his boyfriend’s as the other takes the seat the spirit had previously occupied. Pulling his seat closer, Keiji asks “I thought you were with Mateo’s nephews and nieces?”

“Oh, I snuck out a bit because the room was getting stuffy,” Keiji answers and Kōtarō could see that his ears were tinged with red. “Okay, either that or I’m a bit tipsy. Remind me how I got here?”

“You entered looking like the most beautiful being walking toward my way, Keiji,” Kōtarō effortlessly flirts, amused at the way his lover seemed to grow redder by the second.

“Stop it! Bokuto Kōtarō, you—” he pokes his chest then his nose “—are the biggest tease here! Why, I just want to gobble you and your big fat—”

“Akaashi Keiji!” Kōtarō loudly exclaims, holding a hand to his mouth and pressing it firmly. “Do you really want to say that right now?” he asks, his voice dangerously low. Kōtarō knew that a drunk Keiji was a daring Keiji, and maybe that was why he got himself drunk this evening instead of Keiji.

In Kōtarō’s reverie, Keiji blinks thrice, cutely taking him off-guard. He easily pries Kōtarō’s big hand over his mouth, saying, “What do you mean by that? I’m perfectly okay, Kōtarō.”

_How is it that he gets away by simply acting cute?_ Kōtarō asks himself as he chuckles at his lover’s attempts to seem sober. “Sure. Tell that to the Akaashi Keiji that tried to scream into the heavens about my big, fat meat,” he jokes, cupping a hand on Keiji’s warm cheek, the other resting his head on Kōtarō’s palms. “Go easy with the drinks, Keiji. I knew that beer called Red Horse is gonna make you drunker than I expected you to be.”

“It’s no fair, Kōtarō. We both had glasses of Red Horse* and you’re surprisingly the sober one here? Have our roles reversed over time?”

Kōtarō kisses Keiji’s hands, stroking a thumb over his fading callouses. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you, love. You’ve been working hard this entire year.” He ruffles Keiji’s hair, messing it up a bit in the way Kōtarō liked it. “Even Mateo says you needed a break because you’ve been working the hardest amongst your team.”

“Nonsense. We’ve all been working hard.”

“I know that. But you need to give yourself time to relax, too,” Kōtarō reasons, taking both of Keiji’s hands, this time kissing his knuckles gently. “I wouldn’t want you to always be bent over piles of papers.”

Keiji lightly giggles, lacing his fingers with Kōtarō’s. “Says the one who’s always away for his volleyball games. You hardly rest too, idiot,” he says, leaning forward to give his boyfriend a peck on the lips. “Don’t you miss me when you’re away?”  
_I desperately miss you everyday, Keiji._ “Of course I do. Who in their right minds wouldn’t miss the amazing Akaashi Keiji?”

“Probably people who think they’re better off shining on top of the world even if it meant constantly training and travelling for months?” Keiji muses, earning a light smack from Kōtarō. “Kōtarō!”

“Akaashi Keiji, I’ll have you know _you’re_ the single person that shines in my world. No trophy, medal, or badge could ever top you having me in my life.”

For a moment, the world around them seems to quiet down, muted even, just like in the movies. “Kōtarō,” he begins, leaning their foreheads together and closing his eyes. “Do know that you’re also the only one who makes my world a little bit wider and better. You’re the horizon that I constantly look for in my everyday life, and I probably wouldn’t have made wonders in my life if it weren’t for your voice constantly calling me.

“You mean everything to me, Kōtarō.”

“And you, to me, Keiji.”

“Which is why, I’d like to ask you something,” Keiji says, nervously wiping his hands on his lap.

_Here it comes. Dear spirit please don’t make me return immediately, I’m begging._ “Yes, love? What is it?” he answers, softly smiling as he runs a thumb on the bottom of Keiji’s lips.

“Don’t laugh, okay?” Keiji says. He clears his throat as he begins to fidget with his fingers, a gesture that Kōtarō found absolutely adorable. Smiling, he takes a hold of the other’s hands and gives them an encouraging squeeze, Keiji locking eyes with him and Kōtarō giving him the silent push he needed to talk.

“We’ve known each other since high school. And from there, I just knew you were going to be someone I’d never learn how to let go of, no matter how much time we spend together.” Keiji takes a deep breath, easing into the hand that Kōtarō had surprisingly slipped without him noticing. “And over time, I’ve grown so much and will only continue to grow because of the love you constantly give me.

“You’re childish, sometimes arrogant, and a bit foolish at times—”

“Hey! Keiji!”

Keiji laughs and the sound is enough to create a lump in Kōtarō’s throat. _Even his laughter sounds like music to my ears. Why did he have to go so fast?_

“Let me finish! Other than that, you’re sweet, caring, mindful, and gentle. You are the warmth that keeps me going, you are the star that I long to chase everyday, without fail. You are the anchor that keeps me at bay, yours is the name I’d want to forever have on my lips.”

His hands reach towards the back of his pocket and he pulls out a red velvet box, opening it to reveal a dainty ring decorated with a star made out of a small diamond, presenting it to Kōtarō who didn’t expect this much from the ever-passive Akaashi Keiji.

“Bokuto Kōtarō, I want to conquer and cherish everything with you. Together, we can be protagonists of the world. And with that, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” he asks, his voice shaking as hard as he was sweating. Kōtarō looks at the ring first before returning his gaze to Keiji’s face, a loud laughter bubbling out his mouth as he recalled how this memory totally went wrong when he was the one drunk out of his senses instead of Keiji.

On Keiji’s end (and drunken state), however, he didn’t understand what his Kōtarō meant by laughing after his proposal. 

Was it the corny ring? Was it the tepid speech that he made before proposing? Was it the fact that he was tipsy and that he drawled out something stupid? Oh God, was it the fact that he took too long to propose? Keiji couldn’t exactly point it out.

“W-What? Did I do something wrong?” Keiji asks as he stands from his seat, choking as if he was about to burst in tears. “Oh, God. Oh, _God_. You’re having second thoughts? Wait, did I do it wrong?” he asks, starting to move a few steps back from his boyfriend.

Sensing Keiji’s trouble, Kōtarō rushes to his side and places his hands on his lover’s shoulders, expertly soothing him just like how Keiji likes it. “N-No! No, Keiji, love.” He takes Keiji’s now tear-stained face into his hands and wipes the tears that seem to artfully cascade down his beautiful face. Under the glow of the fairy lights, Keiji seemed to be more alive, more raw than how he was whenever it was just them. “Keiji, look at me,” Kōtarō says, kissing the man’s face slowly until his sobs quieted.

“The thing is...” Kōtarō trails off, retrieving a black velvet box from his back pocket and opening it to reveal a ring with a simple diamond in the middle, the initials _A.K._ & _B. K._ engraved on the inside. “I actually also planned to propose tonight,” he answers, smiling widely until he was sure that there were tears already streaming down his face. “God! Now I’m also crying,” he says, laughing as he takes Keiji’s hand, the latter in pure astonishment as Kōtarō began his speech.

“Akaashi Keiji. You are the very being that has always supported me through my highs and lows. And for that, I will always be grateful for you and your presence. I wouldn’t want to change anything between us. Except your last name, of course.” Kōtarō jokingly ends as he takes the ring out of the box and clumsily places it back inside his pockets. 

Holding the ring up between them, he asks, “I want to see more of the world through your love. Will you be my husband, Akaashi Keiji?”

“SAY YES!” someone from behind them quips and the couple turns to look at the Constantino family cheering for them on the sides. Valerie was on the verge of tears while Mateo soothed her back. The cousins all had their phones out, not wanting to miss out on such a moment.

Without a moment to spare (and with zero fucks to give), Keiji lunges forward to tackle Kōtarō to the ground, peppering his face with multiple kisses as he incessantly splutters a number of “yes, yes, yes!” over and over. Kōtarō’s heart swells with joy, allowing more tears to come as euphoria takes over him.

When the both of them have put the rings on, with much trouble since the both of them were crying their eyes out, Kōtarō pulls his Keiji in for a long and slow kiss, cupping the back of his beloved’s head as he pushes their heads deeper, never wanting this moment to end. 

“Now we don’t have to worry about getting each other rings, huh?” Keiji jokes through his tears, Kōtarō happily agreeing as he leans in for another kiss. The whoops cheers from beside them don’t go unnoticed as Mateo, Valerie, and their family cheer for the newly engaged couple, pausing their nighttime leisure to witness such a magical moment.

“When’s the wedding?”

“Are we invited?”

“ _Ako bahala sa pagkain, sabihin niyo lang!*_ ”

Both Kōtarō and Keiji laugh at the display. They stand and Keiji takes Kōtarō’s hand, drawing his ring finger close to his lips and kissing it. “I love you to the ends of the world, Kōtarō. I can’t wait to be with you until the end.”

Before Kōtarō could reply that yes, he loved Keiji until his days ended, the scene flashes from him.

Within a blink of an eye, he was back in his warm bedroom, as if he never left it.

“Spirit!” Kōtarō calls out, slightly distraught as he never got to reply one last time to his beloved. He feels the back of his eyes sting yet he holds the tears in, deciding that the spirit didn’t deserve to get a glimpse of his sorrow despite having seen it before.

“I told you, Kōtarō. It was only until you proposed and the cheers ended.”

“I know. But couldn’t you have adjusted it more so that I could’ve said to Keiji that I loved him back?”

The spirit sighs. Even for a human as kind and child-like as Kōtarō, he was still demanding in a way that made them irritable. _How, of all people, did Keiji come to love him?_ “You had your chance in your lifetime and that was all you could get. Be grateful that you got to say it before.”

Kōtarō couldn’t believe his ears. “I _do_ know that I should be grateful. I am eternally grateful that you are doing this for me. But please also understand that I haven’t uttered the words ever since my beloved Keiji passed!” he hotly imposes as the tears start to trickle down his face, reasoning with the spirit with all the anger inside him.

“I do not get why you are so angry, Kōtarō.”

“It’s because I haven’t told Keiji how much I loved him yet!” Kōtarō finally answers before leaning forward to sob uncontrollably. The spirit hears the padding of footsteps walk up the stairs and they make themself scarce, hiding in plain sight from the mortals who just entered old Kōtarō’s bedroom.

“Papa, please get some sleep now. Would you want to drink water?” Kōtarō’s eldest daughter, Rina, says stroking her father’s graying hair. She moves to fluff her father’s pillows before guiding him to lean back and rest his head, even though secretly, Kōtarō felt anything but tired after tonight’s excursions.

“I want to see Keiji,” he simply says, uttering the name of his late husband. “Keiji. I miss Keiji,” he sadly mumbles. Kōtarō knows that his daughter would be looking at him with the same sad eyes she always had for him whenever he mentions his other dad, yet Kōtarō couldn’t seem to face her as they were the same color as Keiji’s.

“Papa, _otousan_ is only sleeping. You can see him in your dreams like you always do, right?” Rina reassures her father, her own heart breaking at how sad he sounded. Not wanting to trouble her further, Kōtarō calms down and asks her to leave, thanking her as soon as she exits the bedroom.

“Well, that was a spectacle,” the spirit simply says, reappearing into view once Kōtarō had calmed down. “Can you breathe now? I wouldn’t want you dying after you just visited your beloved Keiji.”  
Kōtarō laughs at his own outburst. “I’m sorry, spirit. I was just… Excited because I got to see Keiji once again after all these years.” Quietly, his tears started again as he spoke, “There isn’t a day where I do not miss my one and only. I know it’s been years and that Keiji wouldn’t want me to be crying over him, but I can’t help it.” He turns to his side and with glassy eyes, he locks gazes with the spirit. “Do you know how many tomorrows without him I’ve counted ever since his passing? I might as well drive myself up to insanity just to forget him. 

“But I could never forget the way he smiles at me nor the way his eyes glint as he looks at me with longing. I could never forget the way his touches make me feel like I’m wearing the warmest of sweaters and I could never ever forget how his kisses made me feel like I could fly.” Kōtarō sighs shakily, looking up to the ceiling as his voice starts to fade out from his exhaustion. 

“Keiji is the only one whom I’ve loved ever since, yet why… couldn’t you make me say that I loved him?”

They watch as Kōtarō fades into a deep slumber. Humans were extremely complicated: one minute they were passionate and angry, then the next they were quiet and drowsy, like their life’s energy had been taken from them. Yet in the back of the spirit’s mind, they felt a small pang of annoyance that seemed to weigh down on his shoulders. For whatever reason it was, he couldn’t quite ignore it.

The spirit knew that Kōtarō wouldn’t want to leave earth without having a final chat with his beloved, as like how he insisted earlier. With all of their power for the entire year, and despite the fact that Father Christmas might scold them later for this feat, they begin muttering a spell, strings of gold and white wrapping around the room as they fill it with light.

From above Kōtarō’s bed, out comes another spirit, this time clad in a red cloak that seemed to be too big for their size. They land in front of the spirit, and with a thud, they fall on their butt, groaning. Irritable, the Ghost of Christmas Future eyes their sibling, huffing loudly as they remove their hood. “I was in the middle of a chess match with Present. We were betting on who gets to deliver Mr. Krosby’s final wish next year.”

“Apologies, Future.” The Ghost of Christmas Past says, helping their sibling up. “I need your help tonight.”

“Why? First of all, I’m nearly out of essence,” the other says, twirling around on their feet and sure enough, they looked pale, ghastly even. They wiggle a gloved hand in front of Past’s face and says, “You insisted on taking this mortal on, why am here then?”

“I want to do something for them. You should’ve seen Kōtarō have a fit earlier.”

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.” Future walks over Kōtarō’s sleeping body and squints their eyes, ribbons of red and black seeping through them. “The last time you said that was when this little girl in Taiwan was on her deathbed and you only had a bit of essence left to let her see her mother.”

The Ghost of Christmas Past sighs. “I know. And… I want to do it again. For Kōtarō.”

“Why?”

_Why, indeed_. “I don’t know why. It’s just that they’ve been so distraught ever since their soulmate died.” They look at Future’s face, the other’s eyes wide in recognition at the mention of Keiji’s name. “Yes, Akaashi Keiji, the person you took in many Christmases ago, is this man’s soulmate,” Past reasons out, not entirely sure if Future was willing to cooperate this time. 

Truthfully, the last time the Ghost of Christmas Future was intent on “helping” others in their terms was when Keiji was on his hospital bed, spending his final Christmas with his husband, Bokuto Kōtarō. At the time, Future didn’t want to admit that they’d made a friend out of the old man, but it was painfully obvious that they enjoyed Keiji’s presence. The same thing cannot be said for his husband (“That Kōtarō character is just too loud. I have no idea how Keiji manages to deal with him even on the brink of dying.”), sadly.

“Walk me through this, okay?”

“Sure.”

“So you want me to help you out and allow him to see Keiji? In his dreams?”

Past nods, although they don’t let their excitement get to them yet. “Precisely.”

Silence. Then Future shakes his head. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Come on! It’ll only be for a bit!”

Future looks at them sharply, sitting on the edge of Kōtarō’s bed. “It’s _dangerous_. You’re an idiot to think that this old man has a lot of soul to live with.” They snap their fingers together, producing a monocle crusted with rubies around the frame. “Look through my looking glass.”

Past snorts. “What a funny name. You’re still hung up on Lewis Carroll?”

“Just look in the damn glass. We don’t have all evening,” Future answers, flushing a deep crimson. And to think Father Christmas birthed us without these so-called emotions, Past thinks, hovering to Future’s side and slipping on the heavy eyepiece. On the center of Kōtarō’s body lies a golden orb, the ball of light appearing to be tinier than he expected it to be.

“He’s only sixty-three. How is it this tiny?” Past asks as they slip the monocle out. 

Future looks at them, their red eyes conveying a silent message of bitterness. “Out of the three of us spirits, you should be the one who knows why.”

Something inside Past cracks and as Kōtarō’s lies in bed, his eyebrows furrowed as they swam in what seemed to be an uncomfortable slumber, they couldn’t help but feel a certain loss creep over them.

“ _Oh._ ”

The two spirits sit in silence, unsure of what to even say at the moment. Unmoved by the sequence of events that lay before them, Future stands and begins putting their hood back on. “Look. I gotta go. I can feel Present raising a fit in the next ten minutes if I don’t go back. They might topple over Father Christmas’ snow globe collection and I don’t need a heavy scolding tonight.”

“Can’t you at least lend me a bit of your essence? Like right now. Right now,” Past pleads, holding both of Future’s hands to prevent them from casting a spell. “Kōtarō is agitated in his dreams. And I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to visit him out of Christmas.”

“What’s in it for me?”

_God, I don’t want to do this but I have to._ “I’ll let you deliver his final wish when the time for him to go is here. I promise.”

Future stares at Past long and hard, holding their blue gaze for as long as they pleased and sighed. “Fine. It’ll be fitting to send him away since this’ll be my third time seeing a pair of soulmates off.”

Past grins widely, uncharacteristically lunging onto Future for a crushing hug. “Thank you. _Thank you!_ ”

“I didn’t give you permission to hug me, idiot!” Future complains, prying Past’s arms off of them. “Let’s do this quickly. But if something ever happens to Kōtarō, this is on _you_ now.”

Past nods, linking arms with Future as they begin to draw each other’s essences out, strips of red and gold flowing into Kōtarō’s body. “I’m fully aware. But if Kōtarō decides to stay, then there’s no stopping him.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Opening his eyes, all Kōtarō could see was gold.

He felt like he was dropped off in some barren area where only gold things grew and he wasn’t about to complain when it looked absolutely majestic. Marigolds surrounded him and he bends down to pick one when he notices that his hands were no longer wrinkly. He walks towards a clear stream and sees that he had his facial features from high school back. Surprisingly enough, and despite being barefoot, he donned a long white polo and jeans that fit him perfectly. 

“Bokuto Kōtarō, what happened to you?” he whispers to himself, astonished at the sudden transformation. _Is this one of Past’s games again?_ He asks himself, sitting on the side of the stream, the grass dancing underneath his feet as a gentle wind blows past him.

“Excuse me? I believe you’re in my clearing, Kōtarō.” Kōtarō perks up at the mention of his name and he turns around, surprised to see Keiji a few paces away from him. His beloved wore the same clothes as him, yet his pants only seemed to reach above his ankles but Kōtarō paid no heed to the details: here he was, standing in front of Keiji once again, as if he wasn’t doing the same thing moments earlier.

Without a moment to lose, Kōtarō bolts up right away, running to where Keiji stood. “Keiji!” Kōtarō cheerily says, engulfing him in a bear hug just to see if he was actually seeing the man he married. The man who left him too early, too sad. 

“Keiji. Keiji. I missed you so much, Keiji,” he mumbles, resting his head on Keiji’s shoulder. He inhales deeply, taking in Keiji’s sweet scent, before collapsing to the ground with Keiji on top of him. “You still smell like vanilla after all this time.”

Keiji laughs at the gesture, resting his chin on Kōtarō’s chest, seemingly lulling himself to sleep with his husband’s steady breathing. “And you still smell like mint after, what, years?”

Kōtarō nods, a wave of loneliness suddenly taking over him as he holds his lover in his arms. “It still feels like you only left yesterday.” He cups a hand to Keiji’s cheek and leans upward for a light kiss. “You haven’t left my mind ever since, love.”

Keiji’s eyes brimmed with tears, still in disbelief at the fact that Kōtarō found him. Found him at last. Resting his forehead on Kōtarō’s, he sighs deeply, trying to steady himself before speaking: he wasn’t gonna ruin this precious moment by babbling and crying loudly in Kōtarō’s arms. “I’ve waited for you all this time, Kōtarō.” He gives Kōtarō a kiss on the cheeks then on the forehead, letting his lips gently settle on the surface of Kōtarō’s skin.

The gray-haired man sits up, hands linked with Keiji and eyes focused on the man he’s been aching to see again. “I’m in a dream, right?” 

A pause. Keiji looks unsure as to how he should answer, but he does anyway. “Yes and no.”

“Everything feels all too real to be a dream. Yet at the same time, I know I fell right asleep after closing my eyes.”

“Technically, you are in a dream. But your soul is here in my clearing, Kōtarō. This is not a coincidence.” Keiji sits upright, holding Kōtarō’s hands tightly. “Your time here is limited.”  
Kōtarō sighs, knowing full well what Keiji meant by that. “Of course the Ghost of Christmas Past had to make my time here short.” 

“Ghost of Christmas Past?”  
Kōtarō nods. “Yeah! They’ve been coming to visit me every year on Christmas. Funnily though, they look a bit like Tsukki but with longer hair, blue eyes, and no eyeglasses.” He observes how Keiji grows silent and he bends down to meet his eyes, worried. “Keiji? What is it, baby?”

“So they weren’t lying when they said they’d keep their promise...” Keiji mutters mostly to himself, trailing off as a smile slowly breaks on their features. 

“What do you mean by that?”

Keiji sighs, finally ready to reveal to Kōtarō a secret he’s taken to the grave with him. “These past Christmases, you’ve been visited by the ghost of Christmas Past, right?”

Kōtarō gasps, confused at how Keiji came to know of his secret excursions during Christmas. “Yes? Why the sudden question?”

Keiji smiles. “On the night before I died, the ghost of Christmas Future visited me. And I told him to keep a promise for me in case I didn’t make it the next Christmas.”

“Which is?”

“To have them accompany you every Christmas. Think of it as a gift from me every year,” Keiji says, excited to tell how the ghost of Christmas Future surprised him minutes after Kōtarō fell asleep holding his hand.  
Yet even before Keiji could narrate what he wanted to recall, Kōtarō’s golden eyes began filling with tears, his teardrops falling slowly as he looked at Keiji with all the love he could hold. 

“S-So all this time… Everything has been because you wished for it to happen? When you could’ve u-used th-that to visit a-any memory you w-wanted?” Kōtarō messily blurts out, not caring at how childish or pathetic he sounded. God he was so helplessly in love with the man before him; his soulmate, his life partner. And the crushing realization that he would be gone the moment he opened his eyes only seemed to settle, making him cry harder than he already was.

Keiji brings his hands to Kōtarō’s face, his heart breaking for whatever reason Kōtarō was crying about. “Honey, look at me. Don’t cry, please?” he says, quietly shushing his husband as he cradles his face on his arms. “Deep breaths, baby. Deep breaths.”

“I’m sorry, Keiji. I’m _so sorry_.” Kōtarō hugs his husband tightly, unsure about how to tell him that he’s been avoiding every memory of him ever since his passing. Kōtarō knew Keiji was forgiving, but could he forgive his feeble attempts of avoiding Keiji, even in his dreams?

Deciding that there was no other time than now, Kōtarō heaves a deep breath. “I don’t know how I should go through with this, Keiji. I don’t even know where to begin.” He holds his husband’s hands close to his face, allowing the warmth to settle on his tear-stained face.

Sensing his distress, Keiji pats his head in an attempt to calm him. Even after all this time, Kōtarō was still the same person Keiji came to love even with his childish tendencies. This was the side of Kōtarō he fell in love with and has been in love with since. “Kōtarō,” he soothes, quietly planting small kisses on his knuckles. “We have all the time we need.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Hours of stories, laughter, and tears later, the day in Keiji’s clearing never seemed to fade. In fact, everything seemed to shine brighter now that Kōtarō was here with him: the stream never sounded clearer and the wind seemed to linger a bit more than usual, carrying the sweet scent of marigolds around them. Was he finally filling the void that has been with him ever since he landed here? Keiji couldn’t quite answer that.

“So this year, you went back to that time you proposed to me during Mateo’s _noche buena?_ ” Keiji asks, interested by the flurry of stories Kōtarō has been narrating the past hours (has it already been hours?).

Kōtarō grins, placing the flower crown of marigolds atop Keiji’s head. “Even better. I got to relive the experience again.”

“That’s a lie. Kōtarō don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!” Kōtarō answers, shaking his head. “The ghost of Christmas Past _did_ allow me to relive it. I’m not lying,” he defends before beginning to retell his latest Christmas excursion. Something inside Keiji feels funny, yet he couldn’t exactly say what. A sudden memory, however, jerks him into a realization, a chill making its way down his spine as he recalls the words of the spirit from before. 

_“I can make you relive a past memory. Think of it as a final gift from Father Christmas,” the ghost of Christmas Future tells him. Keiji marvels at the sight of the floating being before him. Of course, it was impossible to see such a beauty before dying. Heck, in his head, he thought he’d be looking at the horrifying face of Death instead of the black-haired spirit that seemed to read him with those deep red eyes of his._

_Stupidly, Keiji responds, “I’m not dreaming, am I?”_

_Thankfully, the spirit was patient. “No. Bokuto Keiji, I am here to deliver your final Christmas gift and that is to relive a past memory that you’d like to visit. Do you have anything in mind?” They check their pocket watch that seemed to appear from nowhere within the depths of their big cloak. “Also I don’t have all evening. There is someone in New Hampshire that I have to visit as well.”_

_Confused at the rush of events, Keiji didn’t know whether to wake Kōtarō up. For sure, he’d overreact, but being the impulsive person he was, he’d know which memory to take (if that was possible)._ I could revisit the time he asked me to be his boyfriend. For old time’s sake, I guess, _Keiji tells himself._

_However something in him hesitated. Timidly, he asks, “Will I only be the one experiencing this?”_

_“Of course. My powers tonight are saved for you.”_

_“Then I don’t want it.”_

_The spirit looks at him, clearly missing something in the situation. “What… Do you mean by that?”_

_“Exactly what it means. I don’t want it.”_

_Annoyed, the spirit ruffles their hair messily. “Look, mortal. Surely someone like you also has something they want.”_

_“There is. But I don’t want anything like this.” Keiji looks at his sleeping husband, his hand still tightly gripping on his frail one and the gesture alone is enough to calm him down, allowing him to think this thing through. “Certainly when it only involves me and not both me and my husband.”_

_“Well he’s not the one dying, so what are you playing at here?”_

_Keiji smiles, chuckling quietly as the spirit paced—no, floated—inside his hospital bedroom. Thankfully, they’ve gotten him a private room and the image of him talking to air would probably send other patients into cardiac shock, which Keiji didn’t want during this festive season._

_“Actually, I want you to just promise me something. I don’t need to relive my memories again.”_

_The spirit grows quiet all of a sudden, warily observing the sick man that seems to have a bit of spark left in him despite his disease. “What do you want then?”_

_Keiji sighs in relief, releasing the breath he’s been holding ever since he came up with this idea. It wasn’t in Keiji’s nature to be selfish and even through death, he wanted to make sure that his beloved Kōtarō was happy._

_Keiji wanted Kōtarō to be happy even without him._

“Keiji? Love? Are you okay?” Kōtarō says, waving a hand in front of him. 

“You need to go back, Kōtarō.” Keiji stands, ushering for Kōtarō to follow. He pulls his husband with him and begins to walk, unsure of where to go or how to make him go back to where he came from. “You do not belong here. At least, not yet. You—“

“Why are you in such a rush to send me back?” Kōtarō hotly says, yanking his arm away from Keiji. “I _wanted_ to see you, Keiji. Are you not happy that I am here?” he follows, painfully in shock at Keiji’s sudden change of attitude.

Keiji looks at Kōtarō with worry, although he does not tell him what he knows. Kōtarō being here surely means that he was going to pass soon and while Keiji knew that that meant they will be together soon, Kōtarō still had a lot to live for, especially with their daughters and friends waiting for them.

“I am happy, Kōtarō. But you being here is wrong. It’s not even your time yet, honey.”

“Then what if I want it to be my time already? What would you do then?” Kōtarō says indignantly, pulling Keiji back into his arms, never wanting to let him go. “I want to be with you already, Keiji. Can’t you see that?”

“I know, Kōtarō.” Keiji heaves a heavy sigh, looking up and into his lover’s sad golden eyes. “Honey, I know. But our daughters, what would they say? How about Kuroo-san and Kozume-san? Tsukishima? Tatsuki-san and the others?”

“Do I look like I care? Keiji, you’re the one I’d want to be with.”

Keiji bites his lip. _Please don’t make this any harder than it already is._ “I want you, too. I want you to stay and spend the rest of eternity with me. I want to make love to you in this vast field, uncaring and unabashedly screaming your name always because that’s how I want it to be. I want to hug you, kiss you, lace our fingers together always, not letting go because I love the way your touch makes me feel.

“But Kōtarō, I don’t want to take you away from the people who love you that are still alive and breathing.” He can see Kōtarō’s golden orbs beginning to gloss over, but he remains persistent, even though his own heart (did he still have one?) was breaking. “I want you to stay with them for me. Fill your days with every memory of me by being with them. Visit memories of us together during Christmas.”

The couple stood silently and for a moment, everything seemed to grow dull. Kōtarō was unmoving and Keiji, wary at how his husband might react.

“Keiji, do you love me?”

“More than anything.”

“Keiji, will you wait for me?”

Keiji nods. “Until you come, I can wait for you for a couple more years or maybe even more.”

Kōtarō shakily sighs, reaching out to touch his beloved one last time. “Keiji, I love you.”

“I know. I know you always have.”

His husband looks at him, an unreadable expression adorning his face. “Keiji.”

“Kōtarō.”

“Wait for me, okay? I’ll be home for Christmas soon,” Kōtarō quietly says, squeezing Keiji’s hands, their wedding bands glinting under the light of the bright sun above them.

Keiji smiles, knowing that finally, _finally_ , Kōtarō has made peace with his passing. “Take your time, Kōtarō. We’d have eternity for each other soon.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The next morning, Kōtarō wakes up, gently clutching a bunch of marigolds. Last night was pretty much eventful, to say the least. Or probably the most eventful evening he’s ever had ever since Keiji entered his life.

At the sight of the flowers on his hand, Kōtarō’s eyes begin to swell with tears, but he holds back, inhaling deeply as he rose from bed. He stands and slowly makes his way to the window, pulling it up and being greeted by the sight of freshly powdered streets and laughter from every household. Christmas was particularly cooler this time, but even with his thin clothing, he could feel a warmth enveloping him, like a safety blanket for his frail body.

“Keiji, are you seeing this?” Kōtarō mumbles to himself. “Merry Christmas, love,” he adds, kissing his wedding ring lightly then the flowers as if it was Keiji before him. A sweet vanilla scent lingers in the air and Kōtarō knows that he wasn’t alone. 

Hell, even before, he was never alone.

“Come in,” he quietly says, facing the door. His youngest daughter, Eri, quietly pads inside, a cardigan over her shoulder. “Merry Christmas, papa.”

“Merry Christmas, too,” he warmly says. Holding up the marigolds for her to see, he says, “Can you please get me a vase for these? I wouldn’t want them to wilt right away.”

Eri, knowing full well who loved marigolds, nods slowly, a bit creeped out but mostly overjoyed at her father’s smiling face “Yes, papa,” she says quietly, exiting the room and leaving the door ajar.

Kōtarō smiles. He was at peace. Keiji was waiting for him wherever he was. Truly, he only had a few more years before he joined his beloved, but that doesn't faze him anymore. 

For the first time in years, it feels like everything is moving forward once again. He could breathe, laugh, and sing freely. Hell, he could play volleyball again if his joints wanted him to.

From below him, his best friend Tetsurō’s voice booms loudly, shouting for him to come down for Christmas breakfast, followed by Kenma’s quiet voice telling him to shut up like he always did. Kei was also downstairs joining the commotion and he swears he can already hear Shōyō, Tobiō, and Atsumu bickering, their energy never fading despite their old ages.

Kōtarō smiles widely. Finally, he takes a step forward.

**Author's Note:**

> translations and a bit of other facts:  
> 1\. Maligayang Pasko = Merry Christmas!  
> 2\. pamangkin = basically nephews and nieces  
> 3\. videoke = technically karaoke, but we call it videoke in the Philippines. the way it works is that you enter numbers on the device, pay a five peso coin for it to work, and sing your heart out until you get the best score :D  
> 4\. lumpiang shanghai = a delicacy that involves meat being wrapped neatly inside wrappers made out of eggs, cornstarch, and water. a party is never complete without lumpiang shanghai  
> 5\. lola, lolo = grandma, grandpa  
> 6\. "Ay sus, okay lang! Minsan lang ‘to." = "It's okay! These things only happen sometimes!"  
> 7\. titos, titas = uncles, aunties  
> 8\. Minsan Lang Kita Iibigin = although the title translates to "I Will Only Love You Sometimes", the message of the song is to love someone forever  
> 9\. Pasko na Sinta Ko - while the title in English ("It's Christmas, My Dear") is romantic, the message is quite sad because it talks about a lover leaving the other behind just in time for Christmas  
> 10\. mano po = Filipino gesture of showing respect  
> 11\. buko pandan = Filipino dessert consisting of gelatin, young coconut, tapioca pearls, and sweetened cream paired with a sweet pandan flavor  
> 12\. inuman session = literally "drinking session", but adding the "inuman" sounded more appropriate to me  
> 12\. Red Horse = really strong beer loved by most Filipinos (especially dads and people with broken hearts)  
> 13\. "Ako bahala sa pagkain, sabihin niyo lang!" = "Don't worry, leave the food to me!"
> 
> -
> 
> and that is it for this story! interact with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hiddenwangji)! and even though i don't reply to comments that much, please know that i do read them and they make me very happy! if you’d like, you can leave a bit of kudos too! :) 
> 
> thank you for taking your time to read this! have a merry christmas, everyone!


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